


Baby Yoga For Beginners

by otatop



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Actor Derek, Alternate Universe - Human, Baby yoga, But he's kinda retired, Cooking, First Dates, Fluff, Humor, Kid Fic, M/M, Original Character(s), Single Parent Derek, Yoga Instructor Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-25
Updated: 2013-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-30 10:21:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1017442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otatop/pseuds/otatop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He started the ridiculous class because his best friend harassed him. He stayed because of the teacher.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby Yoga For Beginners

The studio was big and smelled clean. It had one wall of ceiling to floor mirrors and the perfectly polished wood floor was strewed with rubber, puzzle-piece ABC 123 mats. What Derek cared most about was the cleanliness, though, because Gloria was currently trying to lick the corner of their mat. Derek lurched forward from his cross-legged position and snatched her up in his arms. Her squeals of delight drew the stares of the handful of moms in the room. Or maybe that was the tank top he was wearing. He knew he should have gone with the t-shirt. But hot yoga had started last week and it was in the next room and the residual heat plus chasing his twenty one-month old had made him sweat and he’d felt _disgusting_.

And the last thing he wanted was to look disgusting in front of the fit young instructor of baby-yoga.

The first time he’d come to this class, it had been reluctantly. He was the only father in the class and most certainly the only one who had ever done actual yoga before. He hadn’t gone into the class expecting it to be anything like what he was used to, but as he looked around at the other women, his hopes had gone down even more.

Then Stiles had hopped into the room, all wiry and loose-limbed and in _leggings_ , spreading out his own mat with an excited intro of, “Alright babes, lets shake what your mammas gave you!”

Obviously he hadn’t paid very much attention to the roster because Derek was a pretty masculine name and Derek Hale wasn’t exactly inconspicuous to anyone who’d turned on a television this decade. Then again, maybe Stiles really _hadn’t_ watched a movie in the last ten years because as soon as he realized there was a father taking his Baby Yoga for Beginners class, he’d just smiled and corrected himself saying, “Daddies are _not_ exempt from the shaking rule, so don’t even think about it.”

The mothers whispered conspicuously; there was no way Stiles couldn’t figure out that there was at least _something_ about Derek, even if he didn’t know exactly what. It felt good, weird, but good to be attracted to someone who either didn’t know or didn’t care about his fame. Dare he say, there might even be the budding of feelings in there somewhere that snuck up him somewhere between Gloria gravitating to the instructor like a fish to water and the penultimate class when he’d arrived early enough to catch Stiles finishing up his other class (and _no_ , it hadn’t been a magical moment of seeing the man twisted up like an erotic pretzel; it had been him getting a class of elderly women to laugh and blush).

Today was the last class and Derek tried hard not to show his disappointment; the next level of Baby Yoga didn’t start for another three weeks and the other classes Stiles taught were a little out of his league (like Aerobics for the 80 year old). Not that he had looked specifically for the classes Stiles taught.

Ok, no, yea, he’d totally looked. Shut up.

When Stiles popped into the studio, it was with the same amount of energy, but his smile looked forced. The second his mat was down (right in front of Derek’s, mind you) Gloria was toppling out of his arms to get in her weekly greeting. It was a welcome site for Derek, watching his daughter bond with someone other than family. He’d come to the class at Laura’s and Erica’s insistence so that she could start socializing with other toddlers and get out her endless energy. She liked the other kids well enough, but Stiles was her favorite.

The instructor made happy sounds and smiled as he scooped Gloria up into a bear hug, but his face turned sad as he nuzzled into her crazy curly hair, just for a moment. Things like that didn’t get past Derek, never when it came to Gloria and, more recently, not when it came to Stiles. Gloria squished her hands into his cheeks and babbled a little, a few real words in there somewhere but mostly she just talked nonsense. Stiles nodded a long with a “Really?” “Me, too,” and a “Well, I don’t know, those Mets are doing pretty good if you ask me.”

“Pretty good?” Derek teased, eyebrow raised and a smirk tugging at his lips. Stiles stuck his tongue out at him and let Gloria down to wander back to their mat.

“They’re doing _just_ _fine_. What about you? Excited for your last class of MommiesRUS?” He said the last part quietly out the side of his mouth. Eight weeks of classes and Stiles was still convinced he’d signed up to scope out single moms. If only he knew.

“I think the… _attraction_ is a little one sided.” Which couldn’t be truer; after the Kate debacle, his ‘maybe women, maybe men’ had started to lean closer to ‘mmmmmen.’ Not that he’d really been thinking of dating anyone since Gloria was born. Hell, he hadn’t even had sex since before she was born. She was getting to be that age, though, where he didn’t feel wrong about leaving her alone with one of her aunts. Stiles wouldn’t have an idea about any of that, though. Derek still wasn’t sure he knew who he _was_ , let alone privy to any gossip or rumors floating around about him. It just made Derek more interested.

“I don’t know. I’ve seen you eyeing Ms. Bates.” Stiles mimed elbowing Derek from afar and winked. Derek made a face.

“She lets her son lick people’s feet. It’s hard to look away.”

Stiles snorted and was about to say something when he looked at the clock on the wall and stopped himself. With one last smile at Derek, he turned his attention to the now-full room of moms and tots and introduced the last day of Baby Yoga for Beginners. It wasn’t much different from every other class; they did a few easy stretches and poses for the adults and coached their kids to try and mimic the movements. They did the ‘This little piggy’ stretch that ended with a room full of squealing, laughing toddlers and balanced on one foot at a time, arms above their heads. Derek had long since stopped mentally degrading the ‘yoga’ when he realized that most of the people there had probably never done anything like it in their lives. Just because _he’d_ done it for some years didn’t mean the others had.

And, you know, catching tumbling two year olds and wrangling mischievous babies was hard enough.

Gloria, for one, had made quite a bit of progress since their first class, as had the other kids. Where she had been flighty and wobbly eight weeks ago, now she was balancing on one foot without help and following instructions better than ever before. Outside of the class, she was starting to be less afraid of meeting new people as well. Granted, eight weeks of development for a toddler was a lot different than eight weeks for a grown man, but he liked to believe the class was good for her.

And him.

Two months ago he had been grumpy and resigned to the fate of a forever-dateless single father. He hadn’t even entertained the thought of dating. Hell, he hadn’t even thought about working again. He’d never been much a big spender; his savings were doing just fine. But after nearly two years of only being around his daughter, family, and occasional friend… he was feeling a bit fried. He hadn’t known how to feel better until he came to class.

Well, that put a lot of pressure on Stiles. It wasn’t like that. He hadn’t just _seen_ the man and thought “Oh, hey, I’m ready to date.” It was more gradual than that. It was an energy Stiles gave off that Derek soaked up like a sponge. It was a confidence, a trust in others he hadn’t had in a long while. And yea, ok, he was _physically_ attracted to the man, but that wasn’t quite _it_. Whatever _it_ was, he couldn’t put his finger on it. All he knew was that he felt ready to start living for himself properly as a person and not just a father.

(Strange how quickly you can lose yourself when you throw yourself into having a kid.)

Ninety minutes seemed to go by faster this week than any before. The other mothers watched him more than usual and he cursed again his choice to wear a tank top. Derek did his best to ignore their stares, pretending instead that it was Stiles sneaking glances at him every time he bent over to help Gloria balance or stretch. God knows every time Stiles’ back was turned his eyes wandered.

Stiles was a twenty-something, gorgeous yoga instructor who didn’t give a shit that Derek was famous and was good with kids. Sue him.

It was a small consolation that they went over time so that Stiles could pass out brightly-colored laminated certificates to all the toddlers. As they were passed out, the families left, until only Derek and Gloria were left and Stiles was handing them a yellow (Gloria’s favorite color) diploma. She immediately threw it to the ground and made grabby hands up at Stiles until he leaned down for a loud, wet toddler-kiss to the cheek.

“Oh no,” Stiles wailed dramatically, swinging Gloria up into a hug. “You’re gonna make me cry sweety pie. Don’t tell anyone, but you’re my favorite.”

“Tie!” Gloria cheered into the embrace and Stiles beamed at her knowing his name. Derek watched with growing anticipation. He felt like he was going to vibrate out of his skin.

“You know,” he started slowly, waiting for Stiles to pull his eyes up to his, “This doesn’t have to be goodbye.”’

Stiles eyebrows shot halfway up his forehead in surprise before he schooled his face into a grin. “I had actually been meaning to ask you something, but it didn’t seem appropriate before classes ended.” He sidled up to Derek, swaying Gloria on his hip until she giggled.

“And what is that?”

Stiles twitched his head to the side with a face that marginalized whatever was making his cheeks burn red. “Was wondering if I could make you dinner some time.”

“That wasn’t a question,” Derek teased.

“You’re impossible. Maybe now I _won’t_ ask. How do you like them apples?” He made a triumphant face at Gloria, nose wrinkling.

“Not at all. My place?” The way recognition dawned slowly in Stiles’ expression before he really hit him, body snapping to attention and eyes popping, made Derek’s stomach knot. The newness of this- he hadn’t tried to go on a date in years and the absurdity of a silly crush was exhilarating. He didn’t know how old exactly Stiles was, if he was young enough for a crush to be everything or just the wrong side of twenty-five when they seem childish. Either way, his cheeks and neck were flushed and his eyes were lit almost manically. He didn’t look much older than Scott.

“Tonight?” Maybe it wasn’t intentional, but Derek noticed the way his arms tightened around Gloria’s wiggly body. He considered the state of his apartment. He was pretty sure it was relatively clean aside from the explosion of toddler toys that as his living room. He nodded.

“Yea. Why not. Do you mind if… I mean, on such short notice I don’t know if I’ll be able to get someone to watch Gloria.”

Stiles _psh-_ ed and gave Gloria one big swing around until she was on his other hip and making a grab for his hair. “Do I look like I care? Am I caring, right now? Do I give off ‘I’ll only come over if you get a babysitter’ vibes? Because if I am-”

“Alright, alright.” Derek held up a placating hand but he was smiling. “Give me your number, I’ll text you the address.”

 

***~~~***

 

Their apartment, as it turned out, was the opposite of clean. Derek set Gloria up in the living room with her wheely horse and play set so that he could run about the kitchen and bed room and pretend he didn’t live like a domestically hopeless single dad. He’d panicked on the drive home and gone to the grocery store with Gloria in their sweaty clothes. His pantry was filled with toddler ready snacks and miniature meals and not so many things that could be put together into a real adult recipe.

Shopping had cut into cleaning time which had cut into his shower time which had cut into his “pretend I didn’t clean my entire home and then shower and panic about clothes” time. He was still shoving his shirts back into his closet when the doorbell rang. He heard Gloria’s little feet race to the door so she could knock on it. Derek made it there as his daughter and Stiles were playing a knocking game through the wood. He watched for a moment, marveling a little at the fact that he was about to have a date. _A date_.

“Took you long enough. What, did you start without me?” Stiles held up two grocery bags with one arm and with the other he pulled out a bottle of sparkling cider from his leather satchel. He waggled his eyebrows as Derek moved aside to let him in.

“Cider?” Derek had brief moment of panic that maybe Stiles wasn’t as old as he’d originally thought. But then Stiles spun on his heel, taking out another bottle as he walked backwards into the open kitchen.

“Wasn’t sure if you were big on drinking with Gloria here. Some people are touchy. I know Boyd keeps every drop all locked up unless his kid’s out with the sitter. Drives Erica bonkers.”

Derek paused, disoriented for a second that he’d missed something because his Erica and Boyd were like that and Stiles spoke about them like old friends. Across from him, Stiles stopped unloading the ingredients onto the counter top to meet his confused gaze.

“You have this look like I’m speaking a different language,” he said in a teasing tone.

“You know Erica and… well, the Boyd’s?”

Stiles’ face was pure amusement with an edge of pity. “Yeaaaaaa,” he said with a slow nod. “I thought you knew that. T’s why you took my Baby Yoga class.”

“It was Erica’s idea, yea. She didn’t mention that she knew you, though.”

The sound Stiles made was irritatingly knowing and Derek didn’t like it, hated being left in the dark.

“She set this up, didn’t she?”

“Probably.”

“She’s gossiping about us over cocktails with Laura, isn’t she?”

“Ye- hey wait, no, you know Laura?” Talk about being left in the dark; Derek was starting to feel completely blindsided.

“We had coffee last week,” Stiles said like it was nothing. Derek was not proud of it, but he sputtered indignantly because-

“You’ve been having coffee with my _sister_ and this is the first time we’ve ever seen each other outside of the gym?” He had half a mind to call Laura and yell at her for not meddling the one time he wanted his life to be meddled in. _Had_ wanted his life to be meddled in. He pulled his hand away from his pocket because no way was he involving his nosy sister after the fact.

Stiles threw up his arms, nearly tossing the grated parmesan as he did so. “I don’t know, man, our paths just never seemed to cross! I mean, yea, we have some mutual friends but that’s just because of Scott-”

“You know _Scott_?”

“-Being as good as my brother, you know? I always just guessed-”

“ _You’re brother?!”_

“-That, cause, you know, he’s been so busy working pretty consecutively on those two movies out west that our fateful hangout-with-Scott-and-meet-each-other moment was a spark in the distance.”

Derek held up one hand to stop Stiles’ nervous tirade and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other. The Erica-bomb had been strange enough to deal with, now it turns out Stiles knows all of the people closest to him? It didn’t make any _sense_. He felt lied to, though logically he knew it was all missed connections. When he looked back up, Stiles was nervously looking over Derek’s shoulder at Gloria in the living room.

“Look, I can go, if you want,” he said far too evenly to be natural.

“I don’t,” Derek said but the words were unconvincing to even his own ears.

“Really? Because you look like you’re about to have an aneurism over this. I honestly thought you _knew_ but-”

“You thought I knew that you were secretly friends with everyone in my life but me?” Stiles’ eyes snapped to his, hurt, and Derek righted himself. “Sorry. That’s not…”

“Look.” Stiles made a chopping motion with his hand, face serious. “You’re the one that came into _my_ class; it was a pretty safe assumption. And it was never a _secret_. Scott’s been my best friend since I was four. When you two were working together and getting all buddy-buddy, I was away at college. I didn’t just decide to up and move here to steal all your friends or something, I came to be Scott’s roommate because he can actually afford an apartment in the city and I got a job teaching babies and old ladies how to fake yoga at a pretentious gym. He introduced me to Erica and Boyd and Laura right before he left for work again because I didn’t know anyone here. You were invited. It’s not my fault you never came out with us, so stop looking at me like _I’m_ the one who went behind your back with all of this.” He was panting by the end of this, face red from trying to get as much out in a single breath as possible and hand shaking in the air.

Derek nodded once, understanding. He hadn’t gone out with everyone to the bars in a long time, despite them asking him to often enough. Scott wasn’t in the city for more than a handful of days at a time, and every time he was, he got lunch with Derek and Gloria and asked him if he’d come out that night with everyone to “meet people.” He was only now starting to get that by “people” he’d meant “Stiles.”

“This is the part where I want to say ‘Oh, woe is me, I should go and let your brood’ but fu-” Stiles sent a quick glance Gloria’s way, “-Eff that. This is just one big misunderstanding and I am _not_ going to let it get in the way of wooing you because _let me tell you_ I have been dying to since you accidentally did a somersault in my class.” Just like that, the tension that had built up cracked and Derek found himself giving a tentative smile.

“You’re going to woo me?” He tested, trying to steer the conversation back towards amicable and teasing. Stiles blushed, but nodded his determination.

“Yep. You think I cook for just anyone? I’m gonna seduce you from the inside out. And then the inside again.” He winked and this time it was Derek’s turn to blush. “Now,” Stiles finished unpacking the last ingredients onto the counter and steeled himself. “Give me a tour so I can show you where else I’m going to woo you.”

Derek obliged, leading Stiles further into the apartment with little brushes against his arm and back. He didn’t fail to notice the way the younger man leaned into his hand. The open kitchen and living room took up the majority of the space, all cool greys and blacks spotted with brightly colored toys. Stiles plucked up Gloria on their way down the hall, bouncing her around in his arms as she giggled and waved her hand at her father.

Stiles hummed at his bedroom and whistled low at the bathroom. “So that tub…”

“Has jets,” Derek finished. Flirting was a bit passed his capacity at this point, made him flush more than it really should, but it felt electrifying. He didn’t know how far the night would go, how far either of them were willing to go on a first date, but there was that confidence there that told Derek they would be together eventually. They clicked. Already, just standing side by side in his home, there was something that felt right and comfortable the way Kate never fit in. It was scary- the good kind of scary that makes you want to stew in the delicious anticipation and jump into it all at the same time.

“So, uh,” Stiles licked his lips, eyes darting around Derek’s face from his eyes to his mouth and back again, “dinner. We should- we should get to that.”

Derek nodded so minutely it was a miracle the motion was noticed, let alone returned. A smile was spreading on Stiles’ face, shy at first, then cunning. He was close enough for Derek to feel the heat coming off is body, facing him in the doorway of the bathroom with his head tilted to the side. He nodded again, and Derek leaned in.

“Food!” Gloria cheered, effectively snapping both men out of whatever trance had overtaken them. Derek made a face at first, and then realized that he didn’t actually want his first kiss with Stiles to be in the doorway of his precariously cleaned bathroom.

“Food!” Stiles agreed, turning his entire body away from Derek in an attempt to hide the dark flush to his cheeks (it didn’t work).

With the ingredients lined up on the counter, Derek had no idea what they could be making. He assumed some kind of baking was involved because there was flour. Flour was used for baked goods, right? Were they having cake for dinner? Gloria would love that but Derek wasn’t very big into sweets. Then again, there wasn’t any sugar on the table.

“What did you have in mind?” He tried to sound causal as he asked and picked up a can that read ‘Diced San Marzano Tomatoes.’ The fact that a can of tomatoes needed three adjectives (or was that two?) let him know that he was in way over his head. Lucky for him, Stiles was confident enough as he locked Gloria into her highchair.

“Gnocchi! Homemade, obviously. I thought it would be fun recipe to teach you- Laura mentioned that you weren’t very into cooking.” He cringed a little at this part, as if Derek would get upset again at him interacting with this sister. Derek made a noise of encouragement and Stiles barely contained his smile. “And it’ll be fun for Gloria, too, so she can feel included. I figured you’d have your own food for her because God knows I don’t know how to feed a toddler, but I can make a little bit of dough without the egg so she can play with it and it won’t be bad if she eats any of it raw. Bowls?”

Derek went into one of the lower cabinets and pulled out a stack of barely-used mixing bowls and pulled out the measuring cups, too. “You really thought this through, didn’t you?” Not that he was complaining, he just couldn’t believe that Stiles had incorporated Gloria into their date as much as he had. Not many people would do that. Stiles shrugged it off like he was embarrassed.

“I maybe, sorta had this planned a few weeks ago.” He was smiling down at the small bowl he was using to making a ball of simple dough. “And I gotta say, since the idea came to me I have been craving this recipe so you better not mess up.” He hip checked Derek and rolled the dough out in front of a babbling Gloria. She immediately squished her hands into the mass, squeezing it with her chubby finger and offering it up to Derek. He, as any respectable man would do, gasped dramatically at the present and pretended to eat it right out of her hands.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Stiles moaned. Derek shot up, brows furrowed in worry that something was going wrong. But Stiles was just watching him, face disbelieving as he mixed a few dry ingredients together by hand in a larger bowl. He must not have meant to curse out loud because he promptly focused his attention downward muttering something along the lines of, _“stupid, gorgeous men thinking they can go around being flawless dads. Asshole_.” Derek took it as a point in his favor; Laura, too, got angry at men she found attractive.

“Alright, here’s the fun part.” Stiles cracked an egg right into the middle of the dry ingredients and beckoned Derek closer. Derek pressed right up to Stiles’ side, one arm puzzling behind him so that his hand could come and rest on his closest shoulder. Stiles cleared his throat into his hand and gestured down at the bowl. “ _You_ get to mix this while I get the place mats and water ready.”

“I think I can manage that. Where’s that spoon?”

“Ah, ah, ah.” Stiles snatched up the spoon from the counter and held it out away from Derek. “You have to use your hand. T’s not the same if you don’t. You’ve gotta be _gentle_ with it. Just start stirring it with your fingertips in a circle and it’ll start to gather into dough in no time.”

Derek eyed the raw egg and ricotta cheese lumped into the little flour well. He could do this. He’d single handedly dealt with the diapers of a sick toddler for an entire week. He could handle raw egg. And Stiles had faith that he could do it. Dinner rested on his shoulders. Without a second thought, he shoved his hand right into the yolk and started drawing it around the bowl.

They puttered around the kitchen like a finely tuned watch, Derek forming the dough and keeping an eye on Gloria, and Stiles throwing flour around like he was trying to redecorate the entire kitchen. Derek couldn’t have asked more from a first date. Somewhere along the line, Stiles started playing music on his phone. He took the tacky dough from Derek’s with an obscene little hip wiggle, jumping into place next to Gloria’s highchair and singing enthusiastically until the toddler started wagging her body in sync.

Assembly line style, Derek rolled out logs of dough and Stiles cut them and tossed them into yet another mound of flour. In no time at all, the dough balls were tossed into the pot of boiling water and Derek was left wiping flour mixture from Gloria’s hands so she could eat her own dinner. She was a pile of giggles and dancing but Derek was a pro at this point; he had her cleaned up and eating by the time Stiles was spooning out the gnocchi (which had been cooked in the tomatoes at some point but Derek had no idea when).

“So that went _way_ more smoothly than I thought it would,” Stiles admitted when they settled onto the stools at the clean end of the counter.

“How did you think it would go?” Derek asked. After one bite, it was hard not to shovel the pasta into his mouth- he was trying to _not_ look like he hadn’t had more than frozen pizza for three days.

“I figured you’d hate gnocchi or I’d get all star-struck tongue-tied or something, ya know? Like, I’ve totally been out of that faze since the second time I visited Scott on set, but I can get…” he made a wide, twitchy motion with his fork, his manic expression pulling a laugh out of Derek.

“Enthusiastic?”

“That’s the nice way to put it. Man, I was so afraid of saying something stupid when I saw that you were in my class cause I didn’t have Scott to buffer so I barely said anything.”

“Instead you told me I wasn’t exempt from shaking what my mother gave me.”

Stiles paused mid bight, his eyes went a bit glassy and then he came back to himself with a start. “So that plan didn’t work out very well,” he muttered.

“Well, it charmed me. I actually thought you just didn’t know who I was,” Derek admitted. Stiles gave him an unimpressed face.

“What, do I look like the kind of person who doesn’t go to the movies? Would it have been better if I fawned over you? Cause I can.” Derek shook his head and laughed around a mouthful of pasta but Stiles continued anyway. He leaned sideways into Derek, draping himself theatrically against his shoulder so his hair tickled at his neck. “Oh _Derek_ , I saw _The Arch_ six times in theaters. Oh _Derek_ , I know all your lines. Oh _Derek_ , will you sign my chest? You’re so _handsome,_ Derek. I wrote a sonnet about your _abs_ , Derek.”

“Did you really?” Derek laughed, teasing to keep the attention away from his own pleased embarrassment. Stiles was laughing as well as he sat back up and shoved Derek playfully.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I can’t write sonnets.” He took a sip of wine and made show of avoiding Derek’s eyes for a few seconds. Derek shoved him back.

The banter was easy and constant and exactly what Derek thought dinner would be. They took their time eating the gnocchi and this weird strawberry dessert Stiles whipped up as Derek cleaned Gloria up and got her ready for bed. The atmosphere was different without the constant chatter of a toddler, heavier but not unpleasant. There was a hum in the air, a tension that drew Derek in instead of pushing him away.

They made it to the couch at some point with their strawberries and whipped cream, starting on their own cushions and slowly sinking into each other as time went on. Stiles told him about being the one to convince Scott to follow his acting dream and Derek told him about taking Scott under his wing. Derek told every embarrassing Laura story he could think of because even if Stiles denied it, he was sure she’d gotten a head start against him. Stiles told him about moving to the city three months ago to live with Scott and then getting stuck with a big empty apartment and a handful of brand-new acquaintances.

“I need people to _survive_ , Derek. They are literally the only people on the east coast that I know.”

Derek hummed low. If he turned his head, he could easily bury his face in Stiles’ hair, take in his scent. If.

“You’ve got me now,” he offered. Stiles shifted his shoulders a little so that he could tilt his head and meet Derek’s eyes. A warm smile played at his lips, small and serene.

“Yea?” He shifted again until he faced Derek entirely. His knees pressed into Derek’s thigh, one arm coming up to the back of the couch in a way that brought his hand dangerously close to the back of Derek’s neck. Derek watched him closely, eyes slipping over the sharp cut of Stiles’ nose and the pattern of moles on his cheek. There was one nestled at the corner of his mouth, practically inviting his attention to the curved bow of his lips.

“Yea,” he reassured quietly. Stiles’ breath shook as it rushed out against Derek’s own mouth and he was gone. There were only inches to close; it was barely anything for him to lean in and press a soft kiss to that mole. He felt Stiles’ cheek pull into a smile beneath his lips.

“Did you just kiss my mole?” he asked in a whisper. Derek _mmhmm_ ed and pressed forward again, this time for a proper kiss. Stiles opened up for him, all soft lips and pressure with a tongue that tasted like strawberries.

They kept it short, both pulling away at the same time before it could go too far too fast. Stiles was trembling, his breath hot and broken as his lips dragged over Derek’s.

“S’that my good night kiss?” Stiles murmured. Derek hummed and bumped their noses.

“Doesn’t have to be.”

“I don’t know what that _means_.”

Shyness overtook Derek, seizing up his throat and robbing him of his ability to use words. But he could pull Stiles to him again, kiss the breath out of him until he couldn’t do anything but push back. Kissing Stiles was like taking a sip of a too hot drink; it was all hot lips and warm limbs and the insatiable urge for more, more, _more_.

Stiles pushed himself up onto his knees, never breaking away as he crept to straddle Derek’s lap. Derek’s hands clutched at his waist without hesitation, grappling with the hem of his sweater and tugging at his undershirt until the expanse of Stiles’ skin was free for him to explore.

“ _O-oh_ ,” Stiles gasped into his mouth, hips pressing down for a single drag of friction between them. “I- I get it now. This is- we should…” Derek cut him off with his own hip roll, laughing a little when his words were drowned out by a moan.

“Bedroom?”

“Bedroom.”

They tumbled off the couch with little finesse and practically ran down the hallway. Stiles skidded to a halt just shy of Derek’s bedroom, stopping the other man with a touch to the wrist. He pointed to Gloria’s closed door.

“She sleeps like the dead,” Derek rushed.

“Oh thank god.” The finger brush against Derek’s wrist turned into a tight grip and Stiles all but dragged Derek into the bedroom. He pushed him back the second the door was closed, bracketing his head with his forearms and licking into his mouth, biting and kissing and Derek pulled and pulled but he just couldn’t get _close_ enough. In a flurry, they were free of their shirts, Stiles making impatient sounds every time he had to break away from Derek’s lips. He latched onto his neck, sucking and biting a bruise there that had Derek baring his neck for more.

“Bed. Pants. Bed now. Pants,” Stiles said around nips.

“Well, which one is it? Pants or bed?” Derek teased. Stiles surged forward until their hip bones and pant zippers locked together and his elbows banged on the door.

“If you’re cognitively functional there is something wrong here.” Derek let himself be manhandled onto the center of the bed. He expected Stiles to come join him, but the younger man just stood at the end of the bed staring down at him, one hand sliding across his belly and down to palm himself through his jeans.

“God, you look good like this,” he muttered, almost to himself.

“Still in my pants?”

“Disheveled. Tousled. _Ravished_.” Stiles never took his eyes off him as he stripped out of his pants. Derek sat up on his elbows, not doing anything to help and enjoying the view just as much. How often had he imagined this? Stiles was everything he’d pictured and then some, all creamy skin and sharp angles and he moved with a predatory confidence. That used to be Derek. He pushed away the insecurities of his two year abstinence (three if you counted how long it’d been since he’d been with another man).

Stiles carried the weight of it, took the lead and stripped them both down to nothing. He covered Derek like a blanket, the slide of skin on skin releasing the barest amount of tension in the spring that was coiling up between them. His hands, like his lips, never stopped moving. Derek couldn’t keep track of lips, chest, hips, abs, thighs. His _thighs_ , God Stiles put everything he was into kissing and nipping at the inside of his thighs. He sucked a mark into the tender meat at the top of one leg and slid his hand through cleft where the other met his body, carefully avoiding the one place Derek wanted him most. But he didn’t speed up or slow down and _how did he know about that one spot_?

“Would you just-” his words were a growl and punctuated by a desperate jut of his hips. He felt Stiles smile into the crease of his thigh and suddenly his legs were being pushed up and apart to hook over Stiles’ shoulders and the younger man was snaking his tongue in hard between his cheeks. Derek heaved upward with a surprised shout, caught off guard by the rapid turn of events when seconds before he was stewing in anticipation and now he was clawing at the sheets for desperate purchase. Stiles held fast with his hands coming down to spread him wide and Derek didn’t want anything more in that moment than to reach down and get a grip on his painfully hard erection but he felt like he couldn’t let go of the covers for fear of rocketing right off the bed.

“You look even better like this,” Stiles whispered, blowing gently where his tongue had just been until Derek was swearing and bucking his hips up and pressing down and writhing completely unabashed. He could take it. He thought he could take it. But then a finger was joining his tongue and pressing into him beneath the ministrations and Derek didn’t want anything more than for this to go on forever.

It didn’t, though. Stiles slid Derek’s legs down by his sides and slithered up his body, the only contact coming when they were eye to eye and the length of his cock barely brushed against Derek’s. Derek lamented at the loss, bringing his arms up around Stiles’ back to pull him back down.

They kissed softer this time, not as rushed despite the desperation that thrummed through Derek’s veins. Stiles held Derek’s head to him as he bore down, fingertips tugging through his hair and scratching at his scalp. The familiarity of the action brought Derek out of his anxiety, brought his instincts back to life and reminded him how much he enjoyed being in Stiles’ position. It was like riding a bike, how easily he took back control with one slip of his hand down Stiles’ back until he could get a handful of his ass and _squeeze_ him downward. It was the shocked little moan that got him, the crack in Stiles’ reserve that had Derek rolling them and rocking his hips brutally. Stiles let out a choked sound.

“Oh _I_ see how it is,” he said lowly into the side of Derek’s hair, mouth catching the curve of his ear. “Gonna sit on my lap? Do all the work and let me sit back and enjoy the view?”

Derek turned his head so that he could drag his mouth over Stiles’ and bite the words into his lips. "Turn over.”

Wide eyed and slack jawed, Stiles did as he was told, shoulders shimmying around first and hips following as Derek relieved his weight.

Derek was merciless as he opened Stiles up, three fingers knuckle deep, slicked up with nightstand lube and drawing out the most beautiful sounds. He pulled the cries from Stiles’ throat like a drug, reaching in deep and crooking his fingers until the younger man was begging and clawing at the bed.  

“Come _on_ , Derek, I’m fucking ready, ok?” Stiles rasped, half his face buried in the blankets and the other half flushed and twisted in the agony of his pleasure and tucking to look at him. Derek hummed patiently, rotating his wrist back and forth and scissoring his fingers.

“Maybe I’m not ready yet.” He demonstrated his words by slipping out his fingers slowly, slowly until he could slide them up the crease and tease Stiles with the pad of his thumb. Stiles’ entire body rolled against the bed, searching for some sort of release and letting loose a frustrated growl when Derek went with the movement instead of giving in.

“Well you better hurry up.”

“Or what?” Derek pressed his thumb past the ring of muscle, just the tip but enough to tease and have Stiles cursing into the bed.

“ _Argh_ If I’d known you’d be so slow I’d already be fucking you into the mattress.”

 Derek chuckled darkly and brought his two fingers back down to thrust in again. And again. And again until the shouts coming out of Stiles’ mouth weren’t coherent words anymore. It _did_ things to Derek, not just watching Stiles body thrash against his dark sheets and ruck them up around his body, but being the one to do it, watching his fingers disappear and flex in a way that made Stiles clench and push backward.

“I swear to fuck, Derek, if you don’t fuck me right now I am going to rub one off on these expensive fucking four-thousand – _shitshitshit-_ whatever thread count sheets and I am _not_ going to ever look at your dick again. Even though it’s really fucking gorgeous _–ohohmygod-_ and _dammit, Derek, please_.”

“There it is,” Derek purred. He grappled around with his free hand until he found the abandoned condom in the rumpled up sheet. Carefully, he tore it open with his teeth in fumbled around with it and the lube until he could fold himself over Stiles’ body, sliding his cock in the cleft of his ass.

“If you fucking ask me if I’m _sure_ or ready I- _ha_!”

Derek bit into the meat of Stiles’ shoulder to hold back his own cry. Funny, he couldn’t get enough of the noises Stiles made but wanted to hold back his own. But it just felt so _good_ and he was so tight that if he didn’t keep them in he’d probably wake the entirety of CPW.

“Again, do that again, higher.” Stiles was chanting instructions in breathy moans, _harder, slower, deeper, bite me there, come_ on _, Derek fuck me like you mean it_ and Derek _did_ , he did everything he could because every time his teeth latched on to Stiles’ neck, every time he slammed his hips forward, Stiles gasped and reached back to run his fingers through Derek’s hair whispering _good, Derek, you’re so good, I fucking knew it_. He lost himself in the tacky skid of sweaty skin and the little kicks of pleasure when Stiles clenched around him.

Stiles pushed up with his knees until Derek was finally gave in and pulled them both vertical with one tug. Stiles moaned out the same appreciation Derek had for the new position. Derek had never been much for taking someone from behind, but this way, with his arms wrapped so securely around Stiles chest and waist, with Stiles’ head lolled back onto his shoulder so he could kiss and whisper into his neck, it was too intimate not to love.

“We could – _hng_ \- we could just stay like this, exactly like this fo-h-h-or ever, yea? Forever sounds  good. _Really_ good.”

Derek smiled into the hair behind Stiles’ ear, nuzzling a little with a tenderer roll of his pelvis. “Forever on the first date, huh?”

“Well, we fucked on the first date. We started pretty high but I’d say we’re still set to go up and up and - _fuck_ \- up from here.”

“You could say that,” Derek chortled, the hand he had on Stiles’ belly slithering down until he could jerk him in time with every thrust.

“ _Dammitshitfuck_ this isn’t the time for _jokes_. Just- just _there_ , oh God, please, Derek, just-”

A second snark was right on the tip of his tongue but the second he tightened his grip and pumped his head around the head of Stiles’ cock the younger man was seizing up and slicking up his hand with cum and his words became a stuttered groan. The strength he’d been calling on to keep them both upright seeped out in an instant and he listed sideways so they could unfold and curl into each other. Stiles shifted onto his back and scooted until his side pressed into Derek’s chest, his head turned to kiss him. He hummed, eyes closed in satisfaction, before resting his hand on his stomach and immediately frowned.

 “I just put my hand in cold jizz.”

Derek laughed. “Go clean up. Then sleep.” It sounded perfect enough to him, but Stiles just bemoaned against his mouth in a non-kiss.

“What time is it?”

Derek tilted his head up to catch a glimpse of the red-numbered clock on his dresser. “Nearly midnight.”

“Jeez, did we really talk for that long or did you literally finger me for seven years?”

“Bit a both.”

“Good. I like both.” He sat up looking around the room aimlessly. “Alright. I’ll stay. But I have to leave at an ungodly hour so I can make it to my eight a.m. class.”

“But you’ll stay?”

Stiles glanced down at Derek over his shoulder then laid back down and kissed him softly. The moment he opened his mouth to respond, a cry broke out over the baby monitor on the nightstand. They met each other’s wide eyes for a beat before Derek was jumping out of bed and trying to put on sweatpants and toss the condom at the same time and Stiles was rolling around the sheets laughing. Derek grabbed a pillow to toss at his head and made his way towards the door, stopping just at the frame to turn back.

“But you will stay?”

Stiles stopped laughing to give a quiet sort of smile. “I’ll be here.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this came from because I promise I am working on a much longer story. I just get so /bored/ as you can probably tell by how glossed over everything gets half way through everything I write :x
> 
> Still, I hope you enjoyed it?


End file.
